


How John Sheppard accidentally became (not quite) a hooker

by velocitygrass



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-11
Updated: 2007-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocitygrass/pseuds/velocitygrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is some backstory and a tag to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192704">Misinterpretation</a>.</p>
<p>I suffered from Love-your-original-characters-too-much syndrome. I removed the exposition with Frank and John from the fic, because it simply took too long until Rodney showed up and I figured people didn't want to read about John with another guy, but I simply love Frank, so I thought I'd post this here, along with a tag to the fic.</p>
<p>I don't usually have specific actors in mind for my OCs, but in this case Frank in my mind is "played" by Steve Carell.</p>
    </blockquote>





	How John Sheppard accidentally became (not quite) a hooker

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Misinterpretation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192704) by [velocitygrass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocitygrass/pseuds/velocitygrass). 



> This is some backstory and a tag to [Misinterpretation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192704).
> 
> I suffered from Love-your-original-characters-too-much syndrome. I removed the exposition with Frank and John from the fic, because it simply took too long until Rodney showed up and I figured people didn't want to read about John with another guy, but I simply love Frank, so I thought I'd post this here, along with a tag to the fic.
> 
> I don't usually have specific actors in mind for my OCs, but in this case Frank in my mind is "played" by Steve Carell.

"Oh God, you're amazing. Can I...can I come on you?"

"Wha?" John mumbled. He wasn't the most eloquent after a good blow job.

"Can I come on your chest?" the guy, Frank, asked. He was kneeling on the bed next to John, grabbing his cock as if he was going to shoot any second. "Please? I'll pay you a hundred dollars."

John shook his head, trying to regain some composure, and then laughed because...had this guy just offered to _pay_ him to come on his chest?

"Please?" Frank seemed really desperate now.

John still had to laugh, so he just made a "Go ahead" gesture with his hand and Frank stroked his cock twice and then came, spurting jets of come onto John's chest.

"God." Frank was panting heavily. " _Thank_ you."

John quirked his mouth into a smile. This guy was really pretty strange. But he gave good head, so John wasn't going to hold it against him.

"I'll go to the bathroom," John said, rolling off of his bed.

"Sure."

"Do you want to take a shower?" John asked on his way.

"No, I'll have to head back to my hotel. My flight's in two hours."

John slipped off the condom and threw it away. He peeked out of the bathroom door. "Anything else then? A towel?"

"No, that...won't be necessary," Frank said, looking at the mess on John's chest.

Right. "'kay." He grabbed a cloth and wet it, then scrubbed his chest clean.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Frank getting dressed.

After he'd dried his chest with a towel, he came out. Frank was ready to go. John quickly checked stereo, tv, his golf clubs, and his pants, which lay exactly where he had discarded them.

"I had a great time," Frank said.

"So did I," John said.

They quickly kissed. Then John walked him to the door. He stood so that there was no danger that Mrs. Kleinhalder from next door would be exposed to him in all his naked glory if she happened to walk her dog and let Frank out.

"Bye," Frank said.

John smiled and then he was gone and John closed the door.

He stretched himself. Sex was his favorite kind of exercise.

He smiled and went to pick up his boxers and a shirt, then he plopped down on the bed. He turned to the clock on his nightstand. 8 pm. Rodney probably wasn't home yet.

Well, he could read another chapter.

He sat up and turned to get "Stick and Rudder" when he noticed the dollar bills.

He looked around as if to find other things that Frank might have left, but there was nothing. He took the bills and counted them. Hundred dollars.

"Ah, no," John said to himself.

He quickly ran to the door, but of course Frank was nowhere in sight.

John walked back to his bedroom slash study slash living-room. Then he tucked away the money in the last drawer of his desk.

~~

"John?"

John looked up from his drink and saw a man coming up to him. He recognized the face. It was the guy with the good sucking technique, who'd come on him and then left him hundred dollars. What was his name again? Frank.

"Hey," John said non-commitally. It had been a one-night-stand a few months ago. This guy didn't even live in San Francisco and now he happened to have a drink in John's golf club. John was willing to bet the hundred dollars that still lay in that drawer that it wasn't a coincidence.

"Frank," Frank said.

"Yeah, I know. Back in town?" John asked casually.

"Yes. I have to fly over from Los Angeles a couple of times a year."

"Ah," John nodded. "And you often hang here at Skywest?"

Frank flushed. Busted, John thought. He looked at Frank, waiting for an explanation.

"No, but you mentioned you're working at Hayward and like to golf after work, so I thought..."

He thought he could get a repeat performance, John finished in his head. The idea of a great blow job was actually inviting, but the whole thing had a vaguely stalkerish vibe, and if he really wanted a blow job, John would find someone to give it to him.

"Listen, Frank—"

"I know how this looks," Frank said, taking the seat next to John's. "You probably think I'm stalking you."

John lifted his eyebrows. Well, yes.

"I'm not, all right. I don't know anything about you. I was just back in San Francisco and thought I could have a little fun while in town. I could have gone to a club again, but frankly most of the guys there bore me. You're different."

John was torn. The blow job had been pretty close to spectacular.

"I could pay you."

John gaped. Then he looked around to see if anyone had heard and yanked Frank outside by his arm.

Once they'd left the club building, John said, "Will you stop with the money! I still have the hundred bucks from last time by the way. I don't _want_ it."

"And I don't _need_ it. John, it's okay. Your 'apartment' is smaller than my hotel room. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Hey, I _like_ it that way. I could afford something bigger, but I'd just have to _clean_ more. What's the point?"

Frank laughed. John couldn't help and smiled.

Frank came closer and stepped right into John's personal space. "So?"

John looked at him. Frank was a bit shorter than him, not exactly handsome, and in his suit and with the conservative haircut exuded an aura of a typical businessman or lawyer. But John liked his wide smile and he'd _really_ liked the things that Frank could do with that mouth.

"I'll reduce you to making those cute noises again," Frank said in a low voice.

"All right," John said. "But only if never call me cute again."

"I promise," Frank said solemnly, but with mischief in his eyes.

~~

"Yeah," John said into his phone.

"Hey John, it's Frank, the guy who pays money to have sex with you."

John glared at his desk. "That wasn't funny the first time and it still isn't."

"I'm just being practical. You probably know a lot of Franks."

"You could just say, 'Frank who gives fantastic blow jobs'."

"You make me _blush_ ," Frank said in a flowery voice.

"So, are you in town? It's only been a month."

"No, unfortunately not. Although I could really use a break. Are you sure you don't want to fly down here? I'd pay all expenses."

"Noooo," John said drawing the word out. "It's bad enough that you keep leaving money when you're here."

"You're worth every cent."

"Now you make _me_ blush."

"I'm trying to imagine it. Hmm," Frank said dreamily.

"You know I'd be just as worthy if you didn't pay me."

"I know," Frank said. "But I really like to do it. You like the iPhone, right?"

"Yes, I do, but I keep telling you, I could have afforded it myself."

"But you didn't before. Just let me do this for you and keep buying things that make you happy. It's a thank you for making me happy."

John sighed. They'd had this conversation before and it always ended the same. "All right, sugar daddy, what I can I do for you?"

"For one, don't ever call me that again."

John grinned.

"Secondly...okay, this will sound weird, and I don't want you to freak out."

"Well, _that's_ reassuring." Frank was a weird guy. Nice and good in bed, but weird. If he thought something was _freaky_ , it didn't bode well.

"I want to say straight up that you can of course say no."

"Frank, just spit it out."

"I know this guy."

John sat down on his bed. So Frank had met a guy. John wasn't exactly heartbroken about it. He wasn't in love with Frank or anything. But Frank had always been fun to be around and good for stroking his ego. And so good at blowing him.

"He's been through an ugly break-up," Frank continued. "And now he has this _phase_ and thinks he'll never sleep with a guy again and the world hates him and...you can imagine, self-pitying to the max, I don't want to bore you with the details."

"O-kay, so why are you telling me this? Is _he_ your new boyfriend?"

"God Almighty, no. I mean. No, really, really, no. And I don't mean he's ugly or even unattractive. It's just we're like brothers, so..."

"Yes, I get it. But I still don't get why you're telling me all this."

"I told him to take a vacation. Relax a bit, if just for a weekend."

And suddenly John had an idea where this was going.

"Frank."

"He's a nice guy. You don't immediately have to decide. You could just have lunch with him or dinner. I'll _pay_."

"Oh, right, so now you're pimping me out to your friends?"

"John, I... You know that I like you. I know that you're not sleeping with me for the money. I know that you don't _need_ or _want_ the money. I'm asking you to consider a favor for a friend. You _told_ me that you're making up for the last twenty years when you couldn't have sex with guys the way you wanted to. Just...just have lunch with him. Be nice to him, work your charm on him a bit and take him golfing. Even that will cheer him up and if you don't want to have sex with him, don't do it."

"What have you told him?" John asked, resigned.

"Nothing yet, obviously."

"You're _not_ telling him I'm a prostitute!"

"Of course not. It would be a lie."

"You're not telling him that you 'pay' me."

"I might have mentioned that already."

"What?! I thought you hadn't told him anything yet."

"He _knows_ about you. I just haven't told him yet that he could meet you."

John sighed. He probably shouldn't do this.

"Oh, and I have it on good authority that he's really good in bed," Frank added, enthusiastically.

John fell backwards on the bed.

"What's his name?"

~~

From Frank and Andrew it somehow spiraled into several guys that were paying when they had sex with John, even though John never asked for it.

It always started the same. Someone knew someone. They were set up to have lunch or dinner together and then John would decide if he'd let the guy pay and take him home or if he paid for himself and they left it at that.

And if they ended up having sex, they'd leave cash on the nightstand or the desk.

That was the only difference to guys he met otherwise. The sex wasn't better or worse. He didn't try harder and didn't do more with the guys who paid him.

It was really quite bizarre to John.

"Hooker by accident," he could almost hear Rodney saying. "Only you."

Of course he didn't tell Rodney about that on their regular phone calls and infrequent visits. He didn't tell _anyone_ about it, because it was kind of hard to explain that it really wasn't like it sounded.

He _wasn't_ a prostitute. He didn't have an asking price.

One guy had offered a lot after John had paid dinner for himself, signaling that he wasn't interested. But John hadn't even thought about it for a second.

He only had sex with guys he liked. And he really didn't want their money. There was one guy, Steve, who John knew didn't have a lot of money. He had put the money straight back in his hands and told him that he didn't want it, but Steve had insisted, he hadn't wanted "charity" and John could only persuade him to cut it down to half, assuring him that he felt appreciated.

And he _did_ feel appreciated. Not by all. But by some. And those were the guys that he was likely to meet again. He didn't feel obligated to repeat performances. Even if he'd had sex with a guy several times, it always started with dinner or lunch and the opportunity to say no.

The only exception to that was Frank, who still dropped by when he came to San Francisco on business.

~~

[All of that changed when Frank set him up with a guy who thought he was straight but had fallen for another guy.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192704)

[That guy turned out to be Rodney and then John wasn't a hooker at all anymore.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192704)

~~

"John, Rodney, it's good to see you two." Frank got up from his chair at the bar.

John kissed him in greeting. Next to him, Rodney cleared his throat.

"Now, come on, Rodney," Frank said reproachfully. "First you take him away from me, and everyone else for that matter, and now I don't even get a kiss."

Before Rodney could answer, John told Frank, "You _do_ get a kiss, but nothing else. Rodney, be nice."

"'Be nice'?" Rodney spluttered. "What am I? Your _dog_?"

John gave him a heated look and Rodney flushed.

"I can't believe you're giving it all up for _him_ ," Frank said with a sigh. "Nothing against you, Rodney. You know I like you. But if I'd known it would come to this, I never would have set you two up."

"We've known each other for years," Rodney said with a glare.

"Right, but in those years, I was sleeping with John and you weren't."

"We only met two years ago," John pointed out.

"Yes, I know," Frank said mournfully.

Rodney rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh please. You act as if I'm a home wrecker. There was only ever sex between you."

"Rodney," John said warningly.

"What? I don't see why he doesn't get that you'd 'give it all up' to be with a guy you actually..."

"Love?" John prompted.

"Yes," Rodney said, looking at him with big eyes.

"I think he gets it," John said, looking at Frank, who smiled at him.

"It's envy talking," Frank explained to Rodney. "Indulge me?"

John smirked and Rodney lifted his chin. "Oh well, if you must." But he put an arm possessively around John's waist.

John pulled him into a quick deep kiss. When he pulled away, Rodney seemed dazed.

"Now that I've made my devotion to you quite public, do you think we can have lunch with a _friend_?" he asked, nodding towards Frank.

"Lunch, right, yes," Rodney said, still blinking.

John sighed and started walking, trusting Rodney would follow. He had taken a few steps, when behind him he heard an outcry.

"You're staring at his ass!"

John stopped and covered his eyes for a second. Then turned around, took Rodney's hand and dragged him towards the restaurant.

Frank followed laughing.


End file.
